


Nuclear

by QuillsAndInk



Category: Supernatural
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-13
Updated: 2016-09-13
Packaged: 2018-08-14 19:16:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8025793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuillsAndInk/pseuds/QuillsAndInk
Summary: What a mess he made when it all went wrong.





	Nuclear

Nuclear

  
_Standing,_  
_On the edge,_  
_Of the crater,_  
_Like the prophets once said._  
_And the ashes,_  
 _Are all cold now._  
 _No more bullets,_  
 _And the embers are dead_.  
 _Whispers_ ,  
 _In the air,_  
 _Tell the tales,_  
 _Of the brothers gone._  
 _Desolation_ ,  
 _Devastation_.  
 _What a mess we made,_  
 _When it all went wrong._

  
Lucifer smiled. Grinned like a feral animal. Like this is what he wanted. Like being thrown away from his home, from the siblings he adored, the father he worshipped was something to be celebrated. But the smile quickly turned into a grimace and melted from his face. He stood at the rim of a deep pit. The maw of the earth. So deep it reeked of sulfur and blasts of hot, foul air came up and hit Lucifer in the face.

 _You don’t deserve to be above the earth_ , Michael had snarled, _so live below it._ Such hatred had marked Michael’s face. Such disgust for the younger brother that had clung to his every word. Lucifer _loved_ Michael. Even now wounded and cast away, Lucifer loved Michael. Even as Michael beat him, he wouldn’t fight back. Michael could destroy everything he was, and still, Lucifer could not bear to hurt his brother in return. Michael took a blade to his wings and Lucifer wouldn’t retaliate except to scream in agony. He wished Michael was here. The Michael that he had always known. The one that taught him to fly, the one that groomed his wings. Lucifer longed for his brother.

 _Standing,_  
_At the edge,_  
_Of the circus,_  
 _For the games to begin._  
 _Gladiators_ ,  
 _Draw their swords,_  
 _Form their rank,_  
 _For_ ,  
 _Armageddon_.

Taking a human vessel was absolutely disgusting. Even with his angelic power, Lucifer found it confining. Humans reeked, their digestive systems were repulsive and their waste was foul. But, this was a very small cost to show God the ugliness of his creations.

Lilith was not difficult to seduce. Though his vessel’s flesh rotted off him, Lucifer was still strikingly handsome. She trailed after him like a lost puppy. When Lucifer did speak to her, she fell immediately under his charm. And then, he stripped her of her humanity. He turned her into darkness. Lucifer smirked as her soul burned. And almost smiled when her eyes turned black. He wanted to scream for Michael to come and witness his work. Show his father how easy it was to change a human. And Lilith worshipped him. She called him god. Lucifer kicked her when she did that. A creature such as her would not befoul his father’s name by wasting it on him. So she called him Satan. It meant something in her ridiculous language. Such loyalty she showed for him. Lucifer’s little soldier. He hated her, but her loyalty was refreshing. She could be an asset one day.

 

 _I’m nuclear._  
_I’m wild._  
_I’m breaking up inside._  
 _A heart of broken glass,_  
 _Defiled_.  
 _Deep Inside the abandoned,_  
 _Child_.

Lucifer was a wildling. Always had been. Even his siblings could not contain him, particularly in his rages. After creating Lilith, a creature he called a demon, things had gotten far worse. His little demonstration had spiraled out of control. Lilith had seemingly gotten lonely and made more demons to play with her. Well, Lucifer said _play_.

They did dastardly things. Defiled God’s earth. Lucifer called the things they did sin. The word hissed from the back of his throat. A seductive word, but still vile on the tongue. Lucifer hated the demons. More than he hated humans. But he always hated himself most of all. He created the demons. And as many as he destroyed, more were made. The demons made a home in the pit that Lucifer had been thrown to. Lucifer called it Hell. They tortured human souls down there. Lucifer did hate humans, but innocence was not something to be punished. It was in these times of self-loathing, that Lucifer’s heart broke once more for the loss of his siblings. And the abandonment of his father. He was the lost child. He was the fallen.

 

 _Standing,_  
_On the edge,_  
_Of the underworld,_  
 _Looking in the abyss._  
 _And I’m hoping,_  
 _For some miracle,_  
 _To break out,_  
 _To escape from all this._  
 _Whispers_ ,  
 _In the air_  
 _Tell the tales,_  
 _Of a life that’s gone._  
 _Desolation_ ,  
 _Devastation_ ,  
 _What a mess we made,_  
 _When it all went wrong._

Once the angles heard of all the demons’ wrong doings, they sent Michael to imprison Lucifer. And Michael came, his off-white wings shuddering with power, his angel blades drawn. Lucifer felt what was left of his heart shatter. Did Michael really believe that Lucifer wanted this mess? That he wanted the demons to torture, kill and taint all that was holy with their abominable beings and their vehement spirits? Had his siblings not seen Lucifer trying to kill them? It didn’t matter, Lucifer supposed. He needed to atone for the ruin he’d made of things.

As Michael forced him down into Hell’s fiery pit, the angels called it Perdition, Lucifer vaguely recalled what it was like to fly alongside his siblings in heaven. But that was simply a fading memory of a life that was now gone. With the pommel of his sword, Michael shoved Lucifer into the cage that had been created for him. As Michael shut it, he laughed and told Lucifer how he would never escape. How there were so many seals, all of them could not possibly be broken. He spat on Lucifer, then was gone. Lucifer felt so sick inside. Everything was so wrong. He wept for everything he had done. If he had another chance, we would have done everything differently. Trembling, Lucifer sank to his knees and pressed his forehead to the fetid earth. His lips formed the last prayer he would ever speak aloud:

“Father, forgive me. I am a sinner.”

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: I do not own nor do I claim to own Supernatural or the characters therein. They belong to Eric Kripke and the CW. I also do not own the lyrics used, they belong to Mike Oldfield. All rights reserved. I own nothing but the plot. I make no monetary benefit from this story. I live to entertain.


End file.
